


sliding scales

by cliche_username



Series: team-work makes the dream work [3]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Bang Chan is Chris Bang, Depression, Gen, Team as Family, i seem to have a thing for hand holding, mentions of han jisung and kim woojin, occasionally anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 14:56:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17685635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cliche_username/pseuds/cliche_username
Summary: chan isn't feeling well at breakfast-time. they talk.





	sliding scales

**Author's Note:**

> this was half vent, half i love chris bang, half trying to get a solid characterization of our sassy 4D mom friend minho(e), and half me being bad at math
> 
> incidentally lee minho is my bias wrecker and i love him to bits, the handsome bastard
> 
> s/o to all my fellow "functional" depressives. we're alive but damn if it ain't exhausting

One of the things everyone had to be introduced to after they moved in together officially, _Stray Kids,_ was neurosis. Not in general, because most of them seemed to be familiar with that, but particular neuroses: Jisung’s, Felix’s, Chan’s. The three of them all seemed to be comfortably used to each other-- a side effect of being roommates before, Minho suspects-- but the conversation was awkward nonetheless. The gist of it wound up being this: that sometimes Jisung and Felix need to sit down and take a few deep breaths and get their heads on straight, and Chan-hyung lives on a sliding scale of _mediocre_ to _really bad_ that determines his ability to move or think or smile. They unfold their usual battle plans; they open themselves up to be fussed over a little bit; life goes on. As they learn to be housemates as well as bandmates, they also learn to watch out for each other.

It’s strange to say, but the really bad days are easy: just follow the stench of existential despair and go from there. Coax hyung from the bed to the couch at least, coax food into him, try and coax a smile out of him. Remind him that he is not alone. It can be hard, the other days: hard to distinguish a good day from a mediocre day, a mediocre day from a bad one. More often than not Chan himself doesn’t notice something’s off until someone points it out to him, mentions that he’s distracted or snappy or just a little bit… slow?

This is one of the easier indicators: that he opens the fridge door in the morning and stares blankly into its depths, like he had an intention but now has forgotten what it was At the kitchen table Minho sets down his fork and says, “Hyung?”

A beat too late, Chan turns. He blinks twice and says, “Good morning.”

“Were you looking for something?” Minho asks. Chan frowns, and looks back at the fridge door, and closes it. “Are you hungry?” Minho presses. Chan’s mouth tilts further downwards, thoughtful, and then he nods.  

“It looks like you’re not doing well, hyung,” Minho says, getting up. “How do you feel?” He hesitates. “Do you want me to get Jisungie?”

This actually gets a reaction: Chan shakes his head, hard. “He’s still asleep,” he says. “It was a long night. I’m--” he falters. “Fuzzy?”

“Fuzzy, like in your head?” Minho says. Chan nods. “Hard to think?” Another nod. Minho nods too, more to himself than anything. “Get some water and sit down, hyung,” he says. “I’ll make breakfast.”

Chan frowns. Before he can argue with more than just his face Minho reaches him and gently nudges him in the direction of the cups. “Go on, hyung,” he says. “It’s okay. I’ve got nowhere to be just yet.”

Chan gets a cup of water and while he’s at it he turns on the kettle. As Minho putters around scrambling eggs and turning on the heat Felix appears, and a few sentences in English float back across the kitchen to Minho’s ears: Felix’s voice is slow and the deepest it ever is-- he’s just woken up-- and Chan-hyung’s is hesitant, speaking in odd starts and stops and changes of tone. Minho makes eggs, and behind him they talk, and then Felix joins him at the stove long enough to hug him and murmur a good-morning into the back of his neck. Minho pats his hands and returns the greeting, and Felix moves off to feed himself. Minho dumps the eggs onto a plate and brings them to Chan’s seat-- empty, as Chan is across the room making tea.

Minho sits down and eats another bite of his own breakfast, and his mouth is full when Chan-hyung comes back to the table with a mug in his hands. It’s still steeping; Chan prods at the teabag with a spoon almost absentmindedly until he sets the whole operation down and looks at his plate.

“Thank you,” he says. Minho smiles at him and swallows his mouthful.

“You’re welcome,” he replies. He takes another bite. Chan musters up a smile and gets a mouthful for himself. Felix comes back to the table with a bowl of cereal and joins them, sitting at Chan’s side and gently bumping their shoulders together. They don’t speak-- priorities, after all-- but something feels deliberate about it. Felix takes Chan’s teabag when the timer beeps, and at a signal from Minho brings back the honey. Chan accepts it with a smile and stirs his own honey into his own tea with the spoon he brought earlier for himself.

When his plate is nearly half empty and Minho’s completely so Minho finally asks, “are you going into the studio today?”

Chan hesitates. “Not by myself,” he says. “Maybe...  when the others get up, if there’s actually anything to do in-studio. I might stay here and work, but I, ah.” He stops short and taps his fork against his plate.

“Chris,” Felix says. Gently, but it’s a gentle _I-love-you-but-you’re-full-of-shit_ tone. Chan ducks his head. “Remember how Woojin-hyung kicked your ass last week,” Felix adds. Chan makes an exaggerated shudder, and then he smiles. Just a little bit, but Minho and Felix look up at each other anyway and share a little triumphant look.

“I just… don’t feel like I should be on my own today,” Chan finally says. “That’s all.” He shovels another mouthful of eggs into his mouth. Felix leans into him, just a little, and Chan leans back into Felix. Felix murmurs something to him that might be in English or Korean but to Minho just sounds like a low rumbling, and a bit of tension drops from Chan’s shoulders. Minho stretches one hand across the table, and Chan takes it.

“You know you don’t have to be embarrassed to ask, hyung,” Minho murmurs. “Right?” He runs his thumb over Chan’s knuckles. Chan shrugs, persistently looking downwards. The tilt of his mouth, at least, is a little familiar to Minho: shame. “Hyung?”

Chan closes his eyes altogether. He swallows, uses his free hand to take a long pull from his mug of tea. “You know my mind lies to me, Minho-yah,” he says. Minho winces. Across the table, the twist of Felix’s mouth turns sour.

“Is this how it lies to you, hyung?” Minho says, reaching out with his other hand to their already joined ones. “That it tells you you’re a bother, that we don’t want to know? That’s a lie, hyung, and it always will be.”

“I know,” Chan whispers. He opens his eyes and sets the mug down, turning it in circles on the tabletop. “I know,” he repeats, “even when I think that it’s just a happy dream, that eventually I’ll wake up and be alone again. I know it’s a lie.” He squeezes Minho’s hand and reaches for Felix with his free one, and Felix leans in to rest his head on Chan’s shoulder.

“We can still remind you, right, hyung?” He murmurs. Chan lets out a little, surprised laugh.

“Of course you can, ‘Lix,” he says. “It feels really good to be reminded.”

“Oh, good,” Felix says. He pinches Chan’s side, gently. “You’re not dreaming.”

“I’m not dreaming,” Chan repeats. He’s smiling, and Minho finds that he’s smiling too.

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on tumblr @captainpeggys to see a bunch of multifandom nonsense and one (1) skiz shitpost that i made the other day
> 
> thanks so much for reading!!


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